


Philately is Fun

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s02e09 Galileo, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-15
Updated: 2009-03-15
Packaged: 2019-05-15 05:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: What do you think it's about? ;o)





	Philately is Fun

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

"The process by which a stamp enters into circulation begins with the American people." I rattle off proudly.

“What?” Why does he seem so distracted today?

“Are you even listening?”

“No.” Well, at least he’s honest about it.

“Do you want to do this or not?”

“I don't.”

“I did index cards.”

“How many?”

“Eighty-seven.”

“Reduce it to three.”

“Philately's fun, Josh.” Like I could reduce 87 index cards to three. Even I’m not that good.

“I'm sorry--what' s fun?” Did he just choke?

“Philately. Stamp collecting.” What did he think I meant?

“Careful how you say that, because --”

“Can we work?” I roll my eyes, but now of course I’m thinking about all the things I could be doing under his desk right now...okay one thing I could be doing under his desk right now. I have to stop thinking like this. Ever since the shooting, I’ve been unable to stop thinking about him like this. Bad Donna! Must stop fantasizing about your boss!

“Tell me what you know.” 

“The process by which a stamp enters circulation begins with the American people--"

“Well, that's always our first mistake.”  
"About 50,000 proposals a year are submitted to the Citizens' Stamp Advisory Committee, the acronym for which is--"

“Dork squad?”

“CSAC.” I correct. Like he can talk. He went to Harvard and Yale, for crying out loud. Ask him how many girlfriends he’s had EVER, go ahead, ask him! “The committee then makes a recommendation to the postmaster general. In this case, Marcus Aquino. He won the Silver Star for service in Korea, there are numerous instances listed here of lifesaving valor and actions well above and beyond the call of duty, and as Puerto Rico's Resident Commissioner, he served Congress faithfully and well. Let's put him on a stamp.” I’m very proud of myself right now. I’ve been researching this for a while.

He pauses a moment before he says, “Let's put you on a stamp.”

“Okay.” I smile slowly, but I have this weird feeling right now. He’s looking at me differently than he normally does. I like it when he looks at me this way. It makes me wonder if lately he’s been thinking about me differently too...and I’m back to the philately thing in my head now...

“Let’s talk about the problem. Close the door.” he says.

“What?”

“Close the door.” he says again. 

I’m curious as to why we can’t be overheard while talking about stamps...or philately as I’m prone to calling it, and given his reaction, I think I’m going to see how many times I can work that word into a conversation today.

He pops up out of his chair and starts pacing. It’s odd to see him moving like this again. The past few months, he’s been so still. First it was because he was so weak, then I think it was because he was so tired from all the therapy. Would you believe I’ve actually missed this Josh? This is my Josh, this whirlwind of energy that’s larger than life; this guy that’s, thankfully, too stubborn to die because, and I really believe this now, he’s been put on this earth simply to make me nuts.

He stops and faces me, linking his hands behind his head, showing off this amazing physique he has. He lost weight initially, but put it back on with all the therapy, and I can tell that he’s a runner.

Now I’m thinking of sweaty Josh...sweaty from philately Josh...

This is bad. This is very, very bad. 

“Something’s happened between us over the last few months.” he says finally.

“What?” I’m a little taken aback by this conversation. I thought we were going to talk about stamps. 

“Don’t you feel it?” 

Well, yeah I do, but I thought I was nuts. 

“Well, you went through a lot, Josh, and yeah I was right there with you, so yes, I do think we’ve gotten closer. Is that bad?” I’m not having the best of feelings right now. I like what we’ve become. We had a lot of long conversations when I stayed with him. We talked about our childhoods and I told him all about Dr. Freeride, except I still wasn’t able to fess up about the car accident. 

“No, it’s not, but...” he trails off and drops his hands. 

I look up at him. I’m not really sure where this is going. I mean, I know where I hope it goes, but...

“But what?” I ask softly. 

“Things have gotten...clouded for me, I think.” he says.

“Clouded?”

“I’m all mixed up, Donna, in what I feel for you.” 

Oh. My. God.

“I can’t figure out if it’s just some Florence Nightingale thing, but I don’t think it is. It’s monstrously inappropriate for the White House, but I find myself hoping that the feelings don’t go away.”

I stand up and move away from the chair, opting to lean up against the bookcase. Maybe if we’re not on opposite sides of the desk we can get this conversation to a more comfortable level. 

“I know what you mean.” I smile.

“Yeah?”

I nod. 

“I know I’ve told you that I was worried about you, Josh, but that’s not true. I was terrified. I watched your surgery and I started sobbing when I realized that my whole life was hanging in the balance then. I don’t know when it happened, Josh, but I fell in love with you and you’re right that’s not a good thing for our jobs.”

He walks right to me, and honestly I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t him attaching himself to my lips. He just walks right over and kisses the hell out of me. 

His fingers entwine into my hair and I’m pressed back against the bookcase. There were many times over the course of the last few months where I’ve had to stop myself from doing this, but since he, you know, started it, I’m right there with him. 

I bring my fingers up to touch his face and he wraps his other hand behind my back and pulls me close. 

He pulls away for a moment and tips his forehead against mine. “I thought it was just me.” He whispers.

“It’s not.” I pant. I’m panting for this man. I’d be embarrassed, but he’s breathing kind of heavy too. 

He smirks a bit. “I guess I’ll just walk right down to Leo and tell him I’m in love with my assistant.”

“You got shot recently. This will be a good time to do that. Play on his sympathies.” I encourage him. 

“You’re pushing me right at the Lion.” I accuses playfully.

“I am. It’s entirely self-serving.”

“How?”

“I want to get back to more kissing.” I shrug.

“I want to get to more than kissing.”

“Your doctor did say you should do more cardio workouts.” I reply.

“Oh, so it’s all in the name of my health?”

“Oh sure.” I nod. And this time I initiate the kiss. I have to kiss him right now because if I don’t I’ll cry. And he hates it when I cry, so then I’ll have to deal with that.

After a few more minutes of the kissing...and a bit of upper body exploration on his part... he pulls away from me and looks me right in the eyes. It’s a searing look and I don’t have to wonder what’s ahead for us, I can see in this really hot look he’s giving me now. 

But that look ends and is replaced with his smirk that I know well.

“You’re right, Donnatella, philately is fun!”

THE END


End file.
